


glad i met you

by nightswatch



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blogging, First Meetings, M/M, Online Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 10:11:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4742468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Courfeyrac's online friend Combeferre suggests they should meet, Courfeyrac decides to bring Grantaire along. Just in case Combeferre is actually a serial killer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	glad i met you

**Author's Note:**

> For [villierscy](http://villierscy.tumblr.com/) who sent me a prompt on my [writing blog](http://musains.tumblr.com/).

_Maybe we should meet up sometime? If you want._

Courfeyrac stared at his laptop screen for a solid minute before he rubbed his eyes and stared at Combeferre’s message for another two or three minutes until he eventually decided that he’d actually really just said that. Courfeyrac had been complaining that he wouldn’t have anything at all to do for about two weeks until his internship started. He’d actually expected Combeferre to tell him that it was the opposite of a problem. He hadn’t been expecting _this_.

Not that he didn’t want to meet Combeferre. They’d known each other for over a year, they’d figured out that they lived in the same city months ago. Honestly, Courfeyrac had been thinking about suggesting the exact same thing for a while now, but that had been _before_. Before Courfeyrac had started to have feelings. About Combeferre. Feelings that he shouldn’t be having. His heart shouldn’t beat faster when he got a message from Combeferre. He kept telling himself that he was being silly, but it didn’t really change anything at all.

And then there was obviously the other minor problem that they’d met on the internet and that Combeferre could also be a serial killer.

Well, if Courfeyrac seriously thought that Combeferre was a serial killer, he wouldn’t still be talking to him, but wasn’t that what parents always warned their kids about? Everyone you talked to on the internet was probably a murderer or at least some sort of criminal. If they didn’t want to kill you, they probably wanted to steal all your money. But yeah, Combeferre just seemed to be a genuinely nice person, who was overly enthusiastic about _Star Wars_. And history. And science. And a lot of other things, actually.

Courfeyrac was pretty sure that they would have never started talking under normal circumstances. Because on his blog, Courfeyrac mostly posted videos and pictures of cats. There was also the occasional puppy, maybe some photos of nice landscapes and pretty people, a few news stories here and there, and sometimes he’d write a post about a book he’d just finished reading. There was no science, no _Star Wars_ , nothing like that.

To this day, Courfeyrac wasn’t sure how Combeferre had found the post he’d made about the book he’d been reading that had space cowboys in it. He’d just been wondering if space cowboys were in any way realistic and Combeferre had sent him a real, genuine message, discussing the possibility of the concept and history of cowboys and how they’d possibly live in space. Courfeyrac had then had to explain to Combeferre that his post had actually been about the plot of a trashy novel.

He’d immediately liked Combeferre when he hadn’t talked shit about trashy romance novels. So they’d talked a little more about those. And space, although that conversation had been pretty one-sided. But they’d still started following each other’s blogs and even though they had widely different interests, they still found things to talk about.

And yes, maybe Courfeyrac was a little bit in love with Combeferre. At first it had only been a _wow you’re really hot_ sort of thing when he’d seen a picture of Combeferre for the first time, but there had been some flirting, scratch that, _a lot of flirting_ , and now it was a real, full-blown problem. He’d done his very best to ignore it, because Combeferre was just a guy he’d met on the internet, but now the guy on the internet wanted to meet up with him and then he’d quite possibly become a real person in his life.

Courfeyrac took a deep breath and reached for his phone to call Grantaire. He was pretty sure that Grantaire was the only one who might understand him and who wouldn’t give him a lecture on how unsafe it was to meet online friends, no matter how nice they were. Grantaire also had a blog, he probably talked to people online as well, although Courfeyrac had no idea if he’d ever met any of them.

“No, you can’t borrow my cat to make funny vines,” Grantaire said when he answered the phone.

Yeah, Courfeyrac had tried that once and while Grantaire hadn’t been too angry that his cat had suddenly been black and pink instead of black and white, Courfeyrac did understand why Grantaire wouldn’t let him borrow Cat again. “That’s cool, I sort of wanted to ask you something, though?”

Grantaire sighed as if this was mightily inconvenient for him, even though he was probably just eating cold pizza and watching a crappy movie and was actually glad that Courfeyrac had called. “Sure, what’s up?”

“So, I told you about Combeferre, right?”

“Combeferre, let me think, you mean that Combeferre who is _so_ smart and _so_ funny and a,” Grantaire paused, probably for dramatic effect, “ _precious cinnamon roll_?”

Courfeyrac was only slightly ashamed because that was in fact an actual thing that he’d said to Grantaire not too long ago. “Maybe.”

“What about him?”

“He wants to meet me? Like, in real life, here in Paris?”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Grantaire asked. “Because you sound vaguely panicked and I’m not so sure why.”

Courfeyrac groaned because how could Grantaire not get this? “Because he wants to meet me. And I have no idea what to say to him.”

“You’ve been talking about this guy for months, and about how lovely he is, and now that I think about it, I think you also said that you really want to meet him. Several times. So how the fuck do you not know what to say to him?”

“I’m just so nervous, I mean...” Courfeyrac once again glanced at Combeferre’s message that was still waiting to be answered. “What if we have nothing to talk about when we finally see each other? What if everything turns out to be super awkward?”

“Probably won’t be awkward for too long,” Grantaire mumbled and Courfeyrac could hear the sound of a bag of chips being opened. “And I don’t believe for a second that you won’t have anything to talk about.”

“Okay, but what if he doesn’t like me?”

“Has there ever been a single person on this planet who didn’t like you?”

Honestly, Courfeyrac was good with people and he knew it, although he did have a couple of exes who probably weren’t too fond of him. Still. “What if he’s a serial killer? What if he waits for me with a chainsaw and chainsaws me to pieces.”

“I have a suggestion for you,” Grantaire said. “How about you meet him in public and not somewhere in a dark alleyway behind a dumpster where all the chainsaw murderers live?”

“Gee, thanks, what an excellent idea.” Maybe they could just meet up at the Musain, he went there with Grantaire all the time and– “You could come with me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Well, don’t you want to make sure that I’m not meeting up with a–”

“I suppose you’ll seem really nice in comparison when I’m there with you,” Grantaire interrupted. “I have a feeling that I’ll literally just sit there and roll my eyes at the two of you.”

“Please? I’ll buy you food.”

“It’s fine, I’ll come, you don’t have to bribe me with food. I mean, I’m really curious what this super smart and funny and talented Combeferre dude is like.”

“Love you,” Courfeyrac chirped and said goodbye to Grantaire before he typed up a reply to Combeferre that he checked for proper grammar and spelling mistakes at least half a dozen times before he finally sent it off.

Combeferre said it was a great idea that Courfeyrac wanted to bring a friend and said he’d bring someone along as well. It was sort of reassuring, but it probably also meant that Combeferre was considering the possibility that Courfeyrac was a serial killer. Grantaire thankfully made an effort to show up at Courfeyrac’s on time on the day they’d meet Combeferre and his friend.

“I just have one question,” Grantaire said as they walked towards the Musain, “what if they’re _both_ serial killers?”

“What if they think we’re both serial killers and they don’t show up? What if they see us and think that we look like we’re about to kidnap them or something?”

“I’m wearing a _Care Bears_ shirt,” Grantaire said dryly. “And doesn’t Combeferre already know what you look like?”

“Yeah, but it has Grumpy Bear on it,” Courfeyrac said and gave Grantaire a playful shove. He did appreciate that Grantaire was wearing a shirt he had given him, though. “Anyway, he’s seen the selfies I’ve posted, but maybe I don’t look as hot in real life as I do in my selfies?”

“Well, let’s hope he doesn’t only like you for your looks,” Grantaire said cheerfully and held the door open for him.

Courfeyrac couldn’t spot Combeferre anywhere, so he and Grantaire took a seat at their favorite table in the back and ordered a coffee from Louison, Courfeyrac growing increasingly nervous until Grantaire reminded him that they were ten minutes early and that the Musain wasn’t that easy to find. Courfeyrac still stared at the door all the while, grabbing Grantaire’s arm when Combeferre and his friend finally walked in, still two minutes early.

Grantaire huffed out a laugh that quickly turned into a whispered _holy shit_. Courfeyrac had a feeling that that comment had been directed at Combeferre’s angel-faced friend.

Combeferre was quick to spot them and he and his friend were walking over to them and Courfeyrac suddenly realized that he had no idea whether or not he should give Combeferre a hug, or if he should just go for a handshake instead. Courfeyrac started with a handshake just to be safe, but did give him a sort of half-hug as well. Combeferre smiled at him and pointed at his friend. “This is Enjolras, he wanted to come to make sure that you’re not going to murder me. And eat me. He actually said the words Hannibal Lecter out loud, I think he’s been watching too much TV lately.”

Courfeyrac laughed, sincerely hoping that Grantaire wasn’t going to make a comment on how there were different ways of eating people. “Well, it’s really nice to meet you. This is Grantaire, he came because I said I’d buy him food.”

“That is so not true,” Grantaire said, making sure to look extremely offended. “But hey, looks like you two didn’t bring a chainsaw to murder us, so I guess we’re good.”

Combeferre smiled at Grantaire and then sat down in the chair across from Courfeyrac. “This place is really nice.”

Enjolras hummed in agreement as he flopped down in the empty chair next to Grantaire, who didn’t seem to be able to take his eyes off Enjolras.

“Did you have trouble finding it?” Courfeyrac asked Combeferre. “Because I know it’s sort of hidden, but the cupcakes here are amazing. Actually everything here is amazing. Grantaire found it on accident a couple of years ago and we’ve just kept coming here, you know.”

“It wasn’t too hard,” Combeferre said, still smiling. “So, everything here is good? Is there something that’s especially good?”

“The hot chocolate is great,” Courfeyrac said, “but they’ll make you whatever coffee order you like, too. We’ve tried some really weird stuff over the years. Well, not _weird_ weird, but...” Courfeyrac bit his lip, because Combeferre surely wasn’t that interested in his coffee orders.

Combeferre ended up getting a regular coffee while Enjolras did order a hot chocolate with caramel flavor and cream, and Courfeyrac did his very best not to start babbling about bagels or cheesecake.

“I found a really lovely bookstore the other day,” Combeferre said and Courfeyrac silently thanked him for it because he had no idea what to say. “They had a huge section for romance novels. I nearly got one for you, but I wasn’t sure which ones you already had.”

“Oh, you definitely have to give me the name of that bookstore,” Courfeyrac said, grinning at him.

“Or maybe I could take you there sometime?”

“Sure, yeah.” Courfeyrac nodded, probably a little too eagerly. He cast a quick glance at Grantaire, who was currently pretending not to care about what was happening around him, stirring his coffee with quiet determination. Enjolras seemed to have listened in on their conversation, lips twitching ever so slightly when he saw Courfeyrac looking at him.

“I came home with four new books that day. They had some really nice editions, although Enjolras keeps scolding me because we don’t have room for any more books.”

“So Enjolras is your roommate?”

“Please tell me you haven’t been talking about me,” Enjolras muttered, shooting Combeferre a look somewhere between annoyance and amusement.

“Just about as much as I talked to you about Courfeyrac.”

Enjolras smirked but didn’t otherwise say anything, so Courfeyrac couldn’t quite tell how much exactly Combeferre had said to Enjolras about him. He did remember Combeferre mentioning his roommate a couple of times, though. Courfeyrac was sort of curious about what Combeferre had told Enjolras about him. He asked about the books Combeferre had bought instead because he didn’t want to seem nosy.

Courfeyrac didn’t even realize that Grantaire and Enjolras had started to talk to each other as well, he was too busy watching Combeferre talk about his own little library. He was obviously very proud of it and when he eventually ducked his head and apologized for talking so much about himself, Courfeyrac only shook his head and gave him a nudge under the table to let him know it was fine, because he really couldn’t imagine anything better than listening to Combeferre for hours on end.

Eventually, Grantaire cleared his throat. Courfeyrac only then remembered that he and Combeferre weren’t actually alone. “We’ve established that no one here is going to murder anyone, right? Because in that case I’m going to get myself a cupcake.”

Courfeyrac smiled at Combeferre before he answered. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

“I think I’ll get a cupcake as well,” Enjolras muttered when Grantaire had got up. He followed him over to the counter and Grantaire soon started pointing at cupcakes, so Courfeyrac probably didn’t have to worry about them.

Now that it was just the two of them, Courfeyrac didn’t think so much about what he should say anymore either, so he told Combeferre about the terrible pizza he’d had two days ago and about the puppy he’d met on the way to the bakery this morning. It was just like texting Combeferre, except that he got to see his reactions in real time, which was just so much better.

“I’m really glad that you agreed to meeting me,” Combeferre said when they’d both finished their drinks. It had taken them a while with all the talking in between.

“And I’m glad that you suggested it,” Courfeyrac said. “I’d been thinking about it, but... well, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to. But hey, next time we can meet up without adult supervision and you can take me to that bookstore and maybe I can buy you dinner sometime?” He had no idea if he was asking Combeferre out on a date right now. Well, he knew that he wanted to ask Combeferre out on a date, a real date, where it was just the two of them and where he’d walk Combeferre home and maybe hold his hand and kiss him, if he was really, _really_ lucky.

“That sounds nice, yes,” Combeferre said. He smiled. “Just the two of us.”

Courfeyrac smiled, because Combeferre had definitely got what he’d been playing at. He was smart after all. “You know, if you don’t have anywhere to be, we could always get another coffee. And maybe a sandwich if you don’t have plans for dinner?”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind, but...” Combeferre glanced over his shoulder. “Actually, it looks like Enjolras won’t mind either.”

Courfeyrac leaned over to look around Combeferre. Enjolras and Grantaire had sat down at a table in the front, each of them with a half-eaten cupcake in front of him. They were quite obviously engaged in a lively discussion, their heads so close together that Courfeyrac couldn’t quite tell if they were about to strangle each other or if they were about to start making out.

“Yeah, seems like, um,” Courfeyrac frowned, “they’re getting along. At least sort of?”

Combeferre grinned. “Oh, I’m sure Enjolras likes him. If he was really mad at him, he probably would have walked out already.”

“Good to know,” Courfeyrac said. He handed Combeferre the menu and left his hand on the table. “The chicken wrap is really good,” he added, trying his best to sound casual. This might be a bad move. A _really_ bad move. Because except for all the flirting and the gratuitous use of emojis in their messages, he didn’t have much to go by. He just had a feeling that Combeferre might like him as well. He was really just relying on a hunch here.

Combeferre hummed, smiling at him over the menu. His eyes dropped back down again, but his hand slowly moved closer to Courfeyrac’s. Their fingertips touched and Courfeyrac stopped breathing for a moment until Combeferre finally took his hand. 


End file.
